


The Necklace

by jonnyluvssherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bottom John, Bottom John Watson, Fingering, Human Trafficking, M/M, Omega John Watson, Protective Sherlock, Top Sherlock, all the depicted sex is between john and sherlock, character gets beat up, escort john, flirty john, heat cycle, kinda case fic, little bit of plot, mentions of sex between john and OMC's, off screan voilence, toplock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonnyluvssherlock/pseuds/jonnyluvssherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is following a human trafficker Edward Fry for Mycroft when he spots John Watson, an omega escort deep in debt to his sisters bookie.  John seems like a means to an end but once he actually spends some time with him he finds himself getting jealous and distanced from the job.  Will John be a help or a hindrance to the case?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Meet

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first part of this fic in one sitting after being awake for more then 30 hours. I had just seen the movie Spy where there was a scene in a casino and a woman in a giant diamond necklace. I knew right away I wanted to write a fic with John in the necklace and thats how this story was born. I don't know how many chapters this fic will be but it will be on the short side.
> 
> specializedinomniscience is my beta for this fic

Sherlock stubbed out his cigarette on the side of the casino and waited for the doorman to let him in. Inside, he handed over his invitation and let the host escort him to the private playing tables. He was on a recon mission for Mycroft. Paying him back for helping him out of legal trouble when he had accidently blown up his last flat. The job was to get in and place a tracker on the mark, Edward Fry, beta, casino owner and human trafficker.

 

He was supposed to play a hand or two, see whom Fry was meeting with and get one of the staff to drop the tracker into Fry’s drink. Then get out before he was noticed. But when had Sherlock ever done what Mycroft asked of him?

 

Security opened the door that shielded the casino’s more demanding cliental, and Sherlock looked into the domain of the exuberantly wealthy. All of them gilded to show off their wealth. Many had someone on their arm. Betas dressed up and perfumed to resemble omegas. They were young, and looked bored when their host wasn’t looking. Sherlock looked the room over, deducing who was important and who was just background. 

 

He spotted his mark, a middle-aged beta in the back left corner, surrounded by a group of men who Mycroft believed to be potential buyers. He walked forward and, as Fry sat back in his chair, he saw him.

 

A male omega of twenty-seven with blond hair cut in a military style. He was dressed in a black suit with a black v-neck vest under the suit jacket and around his neck was the largest, most garish, diamond necklace Sherlock had ever seen. It was hideous, but the man was beautiful. He smiled softly at Fry but it did not reach his eyes. 

 

Sherlock made his way to the bar, but kept his eyes on the omega. He was better than the other guests were. His face remained interested, even when Fry was not looking at him. He didn’t try to meet the eyes of any of the men at the table and he kept his hands in his lap out of Sherlock’s sight.

 

A drink order came in for Fry and Sherlock turned his back to the table so he could slip the tracker into the drink. When he turned back, the omega was gone. Sherlock remembered there being a smoking balcony at the back of the room and looked up just as the door shut. 

 

He waited two minutes before making his way out. As the door shut behind him, the smell of smoke and omega filled his nose. He turned and saw the man leaning against the wall looking out at the cityscape.

 

Sherlock pulled out his own pack and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag.

 

“Are you one of the new guards?”

 

“No.”

 

“Shame.”

 

Sherlock studied him. The omega was flirting. Sherlock smiled and stepped closer. “Why is it a shame?”

 

“If you were a new guard I would have an excuse to invite you back to my hotel room at the end of the night.”

 

“Won’t he want to-” He motioned with his head to the door leading back into the casino.

 

“I’m not a whore. I’m an escort. He pays me to look good and be quiet. I’m arm candy.” The omega looked Sherlock over. “What are you if you’re not a guard?”

 

“I’m a consulting detective working for the British government. The man whose arm you’re on tonight is a human trafficker.” He watched the man’s face pale. “Any information you can give me would be helpful.” He waited, hoping the man had a conscience. 

 

The omega took a long drag off his cigarette, looking at the floor, then threw the butt over the rail. “Not here. I’ll be dropped off at The Savoy at one am. I’m in room five zero two. Knock at one thirty. That will give me enough time to get rid of the guards.”

 

Sherlock reached out to touch his arm but he jerked back.

 

“He doesn’t like anyone touching me when I’m with him. Doesn’t matter if he sees it he can tell.”

 

Sherlock held his hands up and stepped back. 

 

The man walked past him and put his hand on the doorknob. “It’s a shame this conversation didn’t go differently. You’re handsome.” He didn’t wait for a response, just opened the door and left Sherlock standing on the balcony alone. 

 

Sherlock threw his cigarette away and lit a new one. He smoked it to the filter, then reentered the club and found an empty spot at a table and played. He kept his eye on Fry and the omega next to him. The omega never looked at him.

 

\-----

 

At one thirty, Sherlock knocked on room five zero two. He waited as he heard shuffling inside and the door opened to reveal the handsome omega. The man stepped aside and let Sherlock into the room. He was still dressed in the suit and garish necklace. Sherlock heard the door lock behind him and turned to face the omega.

 

“Do you mind?” The omega gestured to the necklace.

 

“Turn around.”

 

He did as told and Sherlock undid the clasp. It was heavy in his hands. The omega held the front and Sherlock released it.

 

“He trusts you to keep it?”

 

“No. It stays in the room. He calls me when he wants to see me and I come here. Clothing is laid out along with the necklace. He picks me up outside and we go where ever he wants to go.” The omega pulled out a box and placed the necklace carefully inside, then placed it on the table by the window, “You said you were a detective?”

 

Sherlock pulled out a card and handed it to him. 

 

He looked it over then looked back up at Sherlock. “Consulting detective, what’s that?”

 

“It means when the police, or the government in this case, are out of their depths, they consult me.”

 

“Are they often out of their depths?”

 

Sherlock smiled. “Yes.” 

 

The omega sat down on the edge of the bed.

 

“You know who I am; might I get your name?” Sherlock asked.

 

“John.”

 

Sherlock raised his eyebrow and looked at him as if to say he could do better. 

 

The man reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet, tossing it to him. 

 

Sherlock opened it and found his ID. “John Watson.”

 

The man nodded. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. He doesn’t tell me anything. Like I said before, I’m arm candy.”

 

Sherlock nodded and took a seat at the small table by the window. “He may not tell you anything but I’m sure you overhear a lot when you’re being pretty and quiet.”

 

“If I tell you, I need you to promise I won’t get into any legal trouble.”

 

“The thing about my job is that I get to choose what I tell my employers. I’ll tell them I got the information from an anonymous source.”

 

John nodded and then he started to talk. He told Sherlock about Fry. What little he knew. About the people he met and what he thought of them. They had never talked shop around him, but he knew where they met and where Sherlock was likely to find them. John knew much more than he realized. When he was done, he looked at Sherlock as if he had disappointed him.

 

“That was very good.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes. The information you gave me was much better than you know.”

 

John smiled.

 

Sherlock watched him fidget with his business card. “How did a man like you, one who is clearly well educated and not sympathetic to criminals, end up as an escort?”

 

“I needed the money.”

 

“You had debt?”

 

John looked at the ground.

 

“Not you. But someone you cared about. A sibling perhaps, a brother, was it drugs or gambling?”

 

“Both. Harry racked up a massive gambling debt before drinking herself to death. She had signed my name as the person who would take on the debt if she died.”

 

Sherlock nodded. “Who helped you get the job?”

 

“Her bookie. She got me connected with the right people. Got a website set up so I could pay her back.”

 

“How much more money do you owe her?”

 

“Three dates with Fry, one with Mrs. Lewis and two with Mr. Broody.”

 

“Then what will you do with your life?”

 

John looked past him out the window, and then his eyes met Sherlock’s. “I suppose I’ll keep doing this. There’s nothing else for me.”

 

Sherlock looked down at the necklace on the table. “Why does he make you wear such an ugly thing?”

 

“He says it belonged to a duchess. Everyone knows he dresses his pets in it. It’s a sign of ownership and to tell others to keep away from me when I wear it. To be honest, it feels like a collar. Like I’m his prized dog and he’s showing me off.”

 

“He wants to fuck you.”

 

John nodded.

 

“And you won’t let him.”

 

“He’s a creep. It’s hard enough letting him touch my arm. “

 

Sherlock studied John. “You asked if I was a new guard and flirted with me. If he doesn’t like anyone touching you how would he react if he found out someone who works for him had had the thing he couldn’t?”

 

John smiled. “When I’m off the clock he can’t tell me what to do. So I like to sleep with people he knows to rub it in his face.”

 

Sherlock smiled at him. “What would he think if you slept with the man who’s going to send him to jail?”

 

John stood up and took off his jacket. “Why don’t we find out?” He turned and made his way to the bathroom, trailing clothing behind him.

 

Sherlock shed his Belstaff, leaving it behind in the chair and stripped out of his clothing as he followed John.

 

He found John running the bath. John looked at him over his shoulder and smiled.

 

“I need to wash his scent off me.”

 

“I’ll help.”

 

They got into the tub, John’s back facing Sherlock. He slowly washed John, enjoying the feeling of his skin under his fingers.

 

“How have you managed to stay unbound in the work you do?”

 

John looked over his shoulder and gave him a fake smile. “I’m defective.”

‘So sterile.’ As he washed John’s back, he found scars that told of abuse and marks that looked like he had had military training. “What parents send an omega to military school?”

 

“One who hates their child. “ John touched a deep scar on his shoulder. “There’s a school of omega’s.”

 

“Baskerville.”

 

John nodded. “My father found out I was useless, so he sent me there.”

 

“Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean you’re useless.”

 

John was quiet while Sherlock washed his hair. Then he turned so he was facing him.

 

“You’re an alpha. I can smell you, so how are you still in control? By now most alpha’s have me pinned to the floor and are half-way done.”

 

Sherlock brushed John’s hair off his face. “I studied control for my work. It would be bad if I went mad every time I smelled an aroused omega.”

 

John leaned forward so their faces were a breath apart. “How about we turn the control off and you fuck me all over this hotel room?”

 

Sherlock breathed John’s scent in. Now that they had washed off Fry and all the people from the casino, he could really smell him. It was better than he had imagined. “How mad is Fry going to be when he finds out you’ve had an alpha in here?”

 

“The kind of mad that might make him get sloppy.” John smiled. His lips brushing Sherlock’s.

 

Sherlock grinned as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to John. John let him kiss him for a moment, then pushed him back and stood up, walking out of the bathroom.

 

“You coming?” He called back to Sherlock.

 

Sherlock followed him and found John stretched out across the bed. John opened his legs in invitation and smiled coyly up at him. There was a condom sitting by John’s hip. His hard cock bobbed against his abdomen.

 

“I’m wet just looking at you.” John whispered.

 

Sherlock took the condom and slipped it on. Then he crawled up the bed and hovered over John. He slowly slid his hand between John’s legs while maintaining eye contact. John’s legs opened wider and Sherlock found his entrance with his fingers. It was damp to the touch but it might have been the water from the bath. He pressed in slowly with one finger, watching John’s mouth open. He found him wet inside as well. The smell that filled the room was unlike anything he had ever come across.

 

“I bet I could stick two fingers inside you and your hole would swallow them.”

 

John nodded.

 

“Is that what you want?”

 

John nodded faster.

 

“Then say it.”

 

“I want your fingers inside me.”

 

Sherlock inserted them, careful not to hurt him. He thrust them in and out, stretching John slowly. When he had worked in four fingers, John was moaning, his legs spread as wide as they could go.

 

“Faster.” John whimpered.

 

Sherlock leaned down so his lips were against John’s ear. “Can you take more?” He whispered.

 

“Yes.” John whispered back. “I need more than fingers.”

 

Sherlock smiled. “Then you’ll have it.” He took John by the hips and flipped him. He pulled him until John had his legs on either side of his own, his hips slightly raised off the bed. 

 

Sherlock lined his cock up with John’s entrance and pushed in slowly. John bucked against him and tried to push back.

 

“Slowly, John.” He rubbed slow circles into the small of John’s back and forced him to go at his pace.

 

John whined underneath him.

 

“I’ve got you.” Sherlock murmured. Sherlock thrust in and out slowly, holding onto John’s hips. It had been years since he had been with an omega. John started to roll his hips against him and it was like magic. He felt the edge of his control shatter. 

 

Unaware, John continued to slowly roll his hips back and forth, making soft keening noises. Sherlock lay against his back, thrusting in shallowly. His lips brushed the back of John’s neck and the urge to bit forced its way to the front of his mind. His teeth grazed John’s skin and the omega shivered underneath him.

 

“You can’t.”

 

Sherlock growled, pressing his teeth against John’s neck.

 

“No marks on my neck or I can’t work.” John reached his arm back and drew Sherlock’s lips against his own. “Bite me anywhere else. Just not my neck.” 

 

He licked at the seam of Sherlock’s lips until they opened. Sherlock dove his tongue into John’s mouth and ravaged him.

 

John moaned, the sound half lost in Sherlock’s mouth.

 

Sherlock needed more and he needed it now. Their eyes met and John nodded. Sherlock pulled out and pushed John’s legs flat against the bed, and then spread his thighs across John’s, pinning him to the bed. He reentered him and then pressed his hands to either side of John’s head.

 

Sherlock set a brutal pace and John did his best to thrust up to meet him. The omega moaned and whimpered, begging Sherlock for more, faster, harder. Sherlock obeyed and soon after, he felt John come underneath him. As John clamped down on his cock, he speed up and followed him over a few minutes later.

 

They both lay panting. Sherlock looked at John’s back and lowered his mouth to leave love bites across it. John whimpered under him. After he was done with John’s back, he pulled out and flipped him over to cover his chest. He felt John’s fingers run through his hair and as he paused, he heard John humming. When he looked up, he saw John, eyes closed, a look of contentment on his face.

 

John’s eyes opened and he smiled down at Sherlock. “If you bring me proof that you’re clean I’ll let you fuck me raw next time.”

 

They untangled themselves from each other an hour later and John moved to pick up his clothing.

 

“That was the most satisfying shag I’ve had in over a year.”

 

“Glad I could oblige.” Sherlock watched as John pulled his trousers over his pert arse.

 

“You aren’t going to wash off my smell?”

 

John looked at him and smiled. “I don’t mind smelling like you.”

 

Sherlock smiled back.

 

They parted soon after, Sherlock heading back to his flat and John to who knows where. It was only after John had gone that Sherlock realized he should have said something. Made a gesture to tell him he wanted what they had shared to happen more than once. He only let his mind focus on it for a minute before he got back to the task at hand. He had a trafficker to stop.


	2. They Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is part 2. there is some name dropping of cannon characters. also i place a couple of the scenes in a posh London Hotel. i tried looking for information about the setup of the hotel but found none so i had to make things up. so any thing that is incorrect is down to me.
> 
> thanks so much for reading

Sherlock spent the next week tracking the men John had mentioned. Mycroft infiltrated several of the meeting places, but they were no closer to Fry. Sherlock tried not to think about John, the taste of his sweat after they had fucked, or the feel of his body under his. 

 

He had half-convinced himself that he had forgotten John when he caught his scent in the air. He turned to face his door as he heard the doorbell. He waited thirty seconds, and then he slowly opened the door. John stood on the other side, dressed in jeans and oatmeal jumper. Even in the plain clothing, he looked breathtaking to Sherlock.

 

“How did you find me?”

 

John reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “You gave me your business card.”

 

They stared at each other until Sherlock broke and pulled John inside, slamming the door and pressing John against it. He looked down and saw John smiling at him.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” John’s hands fisted in the back of his shirt and drew him closer.

 

Sherlock lowered his face and inhaled the scent behind John’s ear. “I want to be inside you so bad.”

 

“Please.”

 

They undressed in a haze, pulling each other’s clothing off as quickly as possible. As they passed through the kitchen, Sherlock stopped them and pointed to the paper taped to the fridge. John turned to look and smiled.

 

“Thank god.” He turned back, threaded his fingers in Sherlock’s hair, and drew him close. “No need for condoms then.”

 

“What about you?”

 

John reached into his back pocket, and handed Sherlock a folded piece of paper. Sherlock unfolded it and read John’s results, ‘definitely no condom’.

 

Sherlock pulled John into a kiss, nipping at his bottom lip softly. “Are you still covered in my marks?”

 

John nodded. “But they’re fading”.

 

“Then I’ll have to add some more.”

 

Sherlock was not able to calm down until he was fully seated in John. He had pressed him back against his bed as soon as they entered his room, and when he touched his entrance, he had found that John was not only wet, but he had prepared himself in advance.

 

John laid back, his legs open, and Sherlock had mounted him, burying his face in the crook of his neck to get his full scent. As he trusts, he planted open-mouthed kisses all over his throat, careful to keep his teeth away.

 

John squirmed under him, trying to get him to go faster, his legs hooked over Sherlock’s hips.

 

Sherlock lowered himself over John and pressed their foreheads together. John pulled his legs higher, letting him in deeper, then reached for Sherlock’s hips, trying to coax him into going faster.

 

“Calm, John.” Sherlock whispered. “I want this to last.”

 

John opened his eyes and they looked at each other. John dipped his head and laid his palms on the small of Sherlock’s back, letting him set the tempo. Sherlock kissed John softly, taking his time to learn his taste and the feel of his lips. They stayed like that, gently rocking against each other for a long time, until John groaned and tried to trust against Sherlock.

 

“Enough. We did it your way. Now I want it mine!”

 

Sherlock nodded. He planted his hands on either side of John’s head and picked up the pace; pushing John faster and harder until all he could do was babble and moan. When he knew John was on the edge, he pressed one of his hands softly to his cock and he came all over them. Sherlock slowed down, fucking John hard and slow. 

 

John looked up at him, a look of exhaustion clear on his face. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s ear, dropping his voice to a low whisper, “I need your cum inside me.”

 

Sherlock shuddered and came, fucking John through his orgasm. He tried to pull out after, but found himself locked. He looked at where they were joined and found his knot swelled half way. 

 

“Are you close to your heat?”

 

“It’s a week away. Why?”

 

“We’re knotted.” He gently rolled them onto their sides so he could lie down without crushing him. “Get some sleep. We won’t be tied long, but we might as well rest while we are.”

 

John nodded, tucking his head into Sherlock’s neck and quickly falling asleep.

 

After they had napped, they lay curled together, John’s head pillowed on Sherlock’s shoulder. Sherlock traced patterns on John’s back and tried to clear his mind. It was impossible. John was near his heat and he might spend it with another alpha. He also knew when John left his flat there was a chance he would be out with a client. He might fuck this one. He had said he had sex with people to piss off Fry.

 

“What’s your plan for your heat?” Sherlock tried to sound nonchalant, but he knew he had probably shown his hand.

 

“I hadn’t thought about it. I’m back with Fry in three days. He likes to see me right before so people assume I’m spending it with him.

 

Sherlock fought the urge to hold John closer to him. “You don’t have anyone in mind?”

 

“I don’t really plan it that often.” John lifted his head and looked at Sherlock. “I spend it alone a lot because a lot of alphas find it hard not to bite once it starts.”

 

“We could spend it together.” He looked down at John, waiting for a response.

 

John smiled. “I’d like that.”

 

John’s phone buzzed and he sighed, pulling away. Sherlock watched him get off the bed to track down the phone. He disappeared for a moment before coming back and sitting back down on the bed.

 

“Work?” 

 

“Fry. He’s confirming Saturday.”

 

“Do you know where you’re going?”

 

John shook his head. “I never do till I get there. I should go.”

 

Sherlock wanted to tell him he could stay, but he had work and he did not need the distraction.

 

John dressed quickly then crawled back up the bed until he was eye level with Sherlock. “I’ll let you know if I get any info.”

 

Sherlock nodded.

 

John leaned in and kissed him briefly then he was up and gone, his scent lingering heavily in the room.

 

\-----

 

Three days later, his flat still smelled like John. He had kept the windows closed in an effort to contain the scent. He had not heard from him, and he knew there was a good chance he was with Fry at that moment.

 

“What have you been up to in here?”

 

Sherlock sighed and turned to see his brother standing in the doorway of his flat. 

 

“You told me to get you information.”

 

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Don’t ask; you’ll only hurt yourself.”

 

Mycroft crossed to his makeshift desk and pushed the paper on it around. “You’ve been busy. Your source seems to have been ripe with information.”

 

“He knew more then he thought.”

 

“Perhaps he knows of an omega often seen in the company of Fry.”

 

“An escort. Fry can’t get an omega to pay attention to him without paying them.”

 

Mycroft nodded. “Perhaps that’s why you’re sulking? Your source is on a date with Fry tonight.”

 

Sherlock glared at Mycroft.

 

“They’re at the opera. He has him in the most garish necklace.” He raised his hand to his throat. “First it’s a choker, and then it drips down like a chandelier. No taste at all.”

 

“He hates it too.”

 

Mycroft made for the door. “Don’t worry. If it is meant to be, he’ll be back. Detective Lestrade sends his best.”

 

Sherlock listened to the door slam and slid down deeper into his chair.

 

It took him two hours to find John’s website. He had his name as Victor Trevor. There was a picture of him in a dressing gown, looking suggestively at the camera. Sherlock focused on his eyes and saw tension, apprehension, and slight nausea. The photo would have been taken soon after his sister’s death, when he had been faced with paying back her debt. John had learned to use his charm to his advantage over time, but it was clear that he had not enjoyed the idea when it had been proposed.

 

He moved to the booking page, and saw all of the next week was blacked out. His phone beeped and he looked down at see a text from Mycroft informing him of Fry’s movement for the next few days. He looked back at the booking page and smiled.

 

\-----

 

Sherlock waited at the Dorchester’s bar. He looked up at the door and ordered two drinks as the barman came by. He felt a hand on his elbow and turned to see John smiling at him.

 

“If you wanted to see me, you could have just asked.”

 

“This is work.” Sherlock smirked. He inhaled deeply, trying to see if he would smell anyone on him, but only found John’s scent. 

 

John nodded and took the seat next to him. “What’s the plan?”

 

“We’ll have a drink here, and then I have reservations at Alain Ducasse.”

 

John raised an eyebrow. “I know someone who likes to go there.”

 

Sherlock nodded. “He’s got reservations for tonight.”

 

“What game are you playing, Sherlock?”

 

“I’m making him jealous so he makes a mistake.”

 

John smiled and picked up his drink. “Cheers to that.”

 

They flirted in the bar long enough to be seen, then made their way to the restaurant. When Sherlock had made reservations, he had made sure the table he was given was in sight of Fry’s. They had to pass Fry to be seated, and Sherlock took glee in watching his expression sour as he walked by with John.

 

The rest of the night John and he ate (well John ate, Sherlock poked at his food) and flirted over the table. There was the promise of sex in the way John spoke and touched his hand. Sherlock tried to stay focused on the job, but John was distracting.

 

“Victor.”

 

Sherlock looked up and saw Fry standing next to the table, staring at John.

 

John smiled blandly at him. “Edward, you know the rules. I’m with someone right now.”

 

Fry steeped closer to the table. “So soon before your heat?” He glanced at Sherlock, clearly uncomfortable with seeing John with an alpha.

 

“He’s my last client before I take the week off.” His smile tightened, showing his irritation.

 

“That was supposed to be me!” He face reddened as he tried to keep his voice under control.

 

John shrugged. “It was last minute. Irene booked him, not me.”

 

Fry’s whole face reddened. “I don’t like it.”

 

“You need to go back to your table. I’m disrespecting my guest.”

 

Fry looked like he wanted to argue further, then he stopped and walked back to his table.

 

John and Sherlock tried not to laugh aloud.

 

When they saw Fry leaving, they got up and made their way to the elevator. As Sherlock passed Fry, he put his arm around John’s waist, pulling his closer. As they climbed into the elevator, John turned to him and kissed him. It was the perfect twist of the knife.

 

They went to the hotel room Sherlock had reserved, and as soon as the door closed, Sherlock undid John’s trousers, pressed him against the door, and slid into him. John gasped and pressed back.

 

“God, you’re going to knot me, I can tell!”

 

“Do you want it?” Sherlock pressed in harder, making the door creak.

 

“Yes.”

 

At that moment, Sherlock could not care less about the case, or if he stopped Fry. All he wanted was to have John close to him.

 

\-----

 

“I like the suit you got me. Much better than anything Fry has given me.” John looked at himself in the mirror, twisting and turning to see all of himself.

 

“Then keep it.” Sherlock pulled his jacket on and stepped closer to him.

 

John smiled. “You’re spoiling me.”

 

Sherlock shrugged and pulled John against him. “Let’s go back to mine and lock the door for the next week.”

 

“We need supplies.”

 

“All taken care of.” He waited, hoping John wanted him as much as he wanted him.

 

John reached up and touched his face. “Then let go.”

 

\-----

 

On the third day of John’s heat, Sherlock woke to find John still sleeping and untangled himself from him. He found his phone and checked his messages. Most of them were Mycroft asking for his help. It seemed as if making Fry jealous had worked.

 

Sherlock looked back at the bed where John was sleeping, then sent Mycroft a text asking for a favor. He hated being in debt to him, but John was worth it.

 

John stirred and looked around for him. When he spotted Sherlock, he smiled.

 

“Come back to bed.”

 

“Not had enough?”

 

“Never.” He gave a mischievous smile.

 

Sherlock lay back down and John climbed onto him, straddling his hips. 

 

“Can’t seem to get enough of you.” 

 

“I don’t mind.” Sherlock felt himself harden.

 

John rutted against him a little then sank down onto his cock. For moment, he stayed still, his mouth open and face turned to the ceiling. Then he started to rock back and forth.

 

“Have you ever heard of true pairs?”

 

John laughed. “That fairytale parents tell kids about there being a perfect match for them out there?

 

“Yes.”

 

“It’s bullshit.”

 

“It might not be.”

 

John stopped and gave his a disapproving look.

 

“Before you say anything, let me finish.”

 

John started rocking back and forth again.

 

“There is a scientific element to it. They have done studies on pheromones and found pairs of people who are more attracted to each other’s pheromones than anyone else’s. Sometimes, the people can’t stand each other, but they still have a magnetic pull to each other.”

 

“Are you trying to explain the reason we seem to fit together so well, despite not knowing each other very well, with science?”

 

Sherlock shrugged.

 

John brushed his lips against Sherlock’s and smiled at him. “Why not just relax and let what’s going to happen, happen?”

 

“I’m not very good at that.”

 

“Then let me help you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are at the end. thanks for reading.

John left after his heat and Sherlock felt as if part of himself left with him. He buried himself in his work and waited to hear back from Mycroft. When Mycroft invited him to his office he was sure his favor had been fulfilled. He arrived ten minutes late for his appointment and walked straight into his brother’s office, instead of letting his secretary buzz him in.

 

Mycroft was sitting at his desk reading over a massive document, files strewn across his normally neat his desk. He kept his face down as Sherlock entered.

 

Sherlock took a seat, put his feet on the edge of Mycroft’s desk and waited for his brother to stop pretending he was reading.

 

“I have to ask why I am doing this favor for you. Mummy will need to know if she should start planning the bonding ceremony.”

 

“I’m getting him out of the way before things get bad.”

 

Mycroft looked up at him and smirked. “Try harder little brother.”

 

Sherlock glared.

 

“Just admit to having an emotional attachment and I’ll do it.”

 

Sherlock glared harder but gave in. “I want him safe.”

 

Mycroft nodded and handed him a file. “It’s all taken care of. I did it anonymously, in case you don’t want him knowing.”

 

Sherlock took the file and looked through it before tucking it into his coat. He stood without a word and made his way to the door. He reached for the handle and then turned to look back at his brother. “How are things going with the inspector? Have you gotten past cryptic conversations?”

 

Mycroft glared.

 

“I would have thought it would be easy getting him on the rebound. Need me to put in a good word for you?”

 

“I’ll stay out of your personal life if you stay out of mine.”

 

Sherlock smiled. “Whatever you say, brother mine.”

 

\-----

 

It took John two days to show up at his flat enraged. He barged in without knocking and sauntered up to Sherlock like he was going to punch him. 

 

Sherlock turned his Bunsen burner off, in case the table got knocked over.

 

“I know it was you.”

 

Sherlock decided to play dumb and just smiled. “What was me?”

 

“You paid off my bookie!”

 

“Ah yes, well, technically the British government paid her off in exchange for the information you provided. I was just the one who put in the request.”

 

“Why?”

 

Sherlock gave him an exasperated expression. “You don’t know?”

 

John folded his arms over his chest and shrugged.

 

Sherlock stepped into his personal space and loomed over him, forcing John to look up to meet his eyes. “I did it, because the idea of anyone even fake-dating you makes me want to scream.”

 

John’s expression softened. “What do you want with me, Sherlock?”

 

“Honestly?”

 

John nodded.

 

“I want to bond with you. I want you living with me, to wake up in the morning with you in my bed and to watch you fall asleep at night. I want to share my work with you. To make you my partner and to solve puzzles with you.” Sherlock threw his hands into the air. “I want you in any way you’ll let me have you.”

 

John nodded, his eyes landing on Sherlock’s chest. He looked overwhelmed. “I never thought I would have anything but this. It’s hard to think of a different life right now.”

 

“I didn’t pay her off to force you into being mine. It did it so you could have options. If you want to continue on like before then do that. But if you want something new I want to help you have it.”

 

John looked up at him like he had something he wanted to say, swallowed and looked at his feet. “Can I have a little time?” He looked up through his eyelashes and gave Sherlock a flirtatious smile.

 

Sherlock nodded. “Take all the time you need.”

 

John pushed himself up onto his tiptoes and kissed Sherlock, his hands gripping the collar of Sherlock’s shirt. Just as Sherlock reached to take him into his arms, he pulled back and headed for the door. “I need to think.” Then he was gone.

 

\-----

 

A week later Sherlock was woken in the middle of the night by his phone ringing. He answered it on instinct and jolted up in bed when he realized what it was about.

 

“My name is Mary and I’m a nurse at Bart’s Hospital. I have an omega here named John Watson. He asked me to call you.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“You aren’t family so I’m not allowed to talk to you about-“

 

“Shut up.” Sherlock took a deep breath to calm himself. “What’s his room number?”

 

An hour later he stood outside John’s hospital room. He took a deep breath to steady himself and let himself in. The lights were dimmed but he could see John lying in the bed. His face was black and blue. His lip was cut. Both eyes were swollen and bruised. There was a cut on his left cheekbone and his nose was broken. His right wrist was in a cast as well his left leg.

 

Sherlock sighed and took the seat next to John’s bed.

 

John shifted and took a deep breath. His eyes opened and he turned his face to look at Sherlock. “I thought I smelled you.”

 

Sherlock leaned in and softly brushed John’s hair off his face. “What happened?”

 

“Fry contacted me to book a date and I turned him down. He got pissed and found me at my flat. He told me he owned me and he could do what he wanted with me.” John took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I kept telling him no so he set his bodyguards on me.”

 

Sherlock touched the back of his hand as softly as he could and whispered. “He’ll pay for this.”

 

\-----

 

Sherlock stayed with John while he was in the hospital, afraid Fry would send his goons after him again. Lestrade had taken John’s statement, but the way he had looked at Sherlock told him that getting the charges to stick with a man like Fry would be near impossible. The news from Mycroft wasn’t any better; Sherlock had a feeling Fry was going to get away. It wouldn’t have bothered him as much a week ago, but now he wanted the man dead. With Mycroft’s help they set a trap.

 

John had agreed to help and as much as Sherlock hated to use him as bait, he didn’t feel he had any choice. When John was strong enough they sent him home, alone. They had also let it be known that John was lonely and might need some company.

 

It took Fry three hours to take the bait. Sherlock knew the man couldn’t resist taking advantage of a man he’d fawned over for as long as he had over John. Sherlock was forced to wait in Mycroft’s car while Fry let himself into John’s apartment. Three minutes later Mycroft’s men stormed the place, Sherlock hot on their tail. When he entered John’s flat he looked around. It was little more than a bedsit. John was sat in a chair, his eyes wide, holding the Taser gun he’d been handed at the hospital.

 

Sherlock crossed the room and knelt by his side. “John?” He asked, trying to draw John’s attention to him.

 

John looked at him like he couldn’t really see him. “I shot him.”

 

Sherlock’s eyes flicked to the unconscious form of Fry on the floor. “Yes, are you alright?”

 

“He said the most horrible things.” John shook his head as if trying to the shake the memory from his mind. “He was going to do horrible things to me.”

 

Sherlock pried the gun from John’s hand and sat it on the floor. “He can’t hurt you now.”

 

John nodded. “Can we leave? Can you take me somewhere else, your flat maybe?” When he looked at Sherlock, this time he really was looking at him.

 

Sherlock nodded and helped him to his feet. “Of course.”

 

He helped John outside and into Mycroft’s car. His brother wasn’t inside but he didn’t care. The car could come back from him when he was done with it. He gave the driver his address as John settled against him, leaning on his arm.

 

When they arrived at Sherlock’s flat he settled John in his bed. His phone rang, so he left John to sleep while he headed back to his living room.

 

“Mycroft.” Sherlock smiled at the thought of his brother going to his car to find it gone.

 

“You left.” Mycroft ground out, his voice tight with anger.

 

“I didn’t think we were needed.”

 

“Where is my car?”

 

“On its way back to you.”

 

Mycroft sighed. “I take it you took him back to your flat?”

 

“He was exhausted.”

 

“I will need a statement from him.” He paused, as if thinking about something.

 

Sherlock opened his fridge to see if he had anything to eat. John might be hungry when he woke up.

 

“I suppose-” another pause, “-we can get it another day.”

 

“Capital idea. Send Lestrade around in a day or two and John will tell him everything.” He looked through the experiments in his fridge and realized all he had was moldy milk and half an apple. “As payment for today I’d like you to have grocery’s delivered.”

 

“You’re the one who owes me.”

 

“John deserves payment.”

 

The line was silent. “Fine.” Mycroft muttered and then hung up.

 

When John woke several hours later he was happy to find the fridge full. He made himself some dinner and then kissed Sherlock, thanking him for the trouble he had gone through. “When I’m feeling better I’ll give you a better reward.” He winked, letting his hand slide down Sherlock’s chest.

 

“I don’t doubt that you will.”

 

John stayed during the next few days, while his flat remained a crime scene. Then Sherlock went over and collected his things so he would be more comfortable while he recovered. A few days turned into weeks and John showed no signs of leaving. The two of them shared Sherlock’s bed (when he slept) and John started helping Sherlock with his work. At first as a sounding board for his ideas and then, as John recovered, he started going to crime scenes with him. 

 

When Sherlock was told by his landlord that he had to move (too many body parts in the trash) he made contact with a former client who he knew had rooms to rent. Mrs. Hudson had been happy to help and offered the rooms at a discount. Sherlock told John of the move and the man acted like it was completely natural that he would move with him when they went.

 

It wasn’t until they had finally moved into the new flat on Baker Street and John had let Mrs. Hudson know they would only be needing the one bedroom, that Sherlock finally asked John what his intentions were.

 

“Are we a couple?” Sherlock asked, watching John place their books on the bookshelf next to the fireplace.

 

John turned and smiled at him. “Yes, we have been for a while now.”

 

Sherlock nodded. “I wasn’t sure.”

 

John put the books in his hand down and crossed the room to Sherlock, placing a hand on Sherlock’s chest. “What did you think was going on?”

 

“I’ve never been in a relationship before, so I didn’t know.”

 

“You thought I was going to leave?”

 

“You never said you were going to stay.”

 

John’s hands made their way to Sherlock’s shoulders as he leaned in, pressing himself to Sherlock’s chest. “You asked me to be yours.”

 

“I was waiting for you to say something. I thought, well, I thought a lot of things.”

 

John stood on his toes and kissed Sherlock. “Sorry. I should have realized. Every time you saw I was still here you looked at me like you were shocked. I should have known you needed me to say it.”

 

Sherlock tentatively put his hands on John’s back. “You’re mine?”

 

John nodded. “Completely.”

 

Sherlock pulled John against him and kissed him. “Finally.”


End file.
